The last time we checked in on Slick Rick was with his 1991 sophomore effort, The Ruler’s Back. As the story goes, Rick was facing attempted murder charges (you can read my review of The Ruler’s Back for all the intricate details), and since he was signed to Def Jam and coming off the platinum success of his debut album, The Great Adventures Of Slick Rick, Russell Simmons posted his bail giving the London born emcee three weeks to record the album. The overall consensus from critics was that the album sounded rushed, and while I enjoyed most of the production, the mixing felt hurried, and so did some of Rick’s concepts and rhymes. The album sales were also disappointing, as it wouldn’t come close to matching the numbers that The Great Adventures put up. Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. During that same three-week bail period, Rick would also record what would be his third album, appropriately titled Behind Bars.

Behind Bars would feature production from some of hip-hop’s most elite producers: Easy Mo Bee, Prince Paul, Warren G, Large Professor, Pete Rock, and Rick’s longtime production partner, Vance Wright. Rick has said in interviews that his vocals were recorded first, and a lot of the music was added to the tracks afterward, similar to the process used for The Ruler’s Back. Despite a couple of mild hits, Behind Bars received mixed reviews from critics, and like its predecessor, it was a commercial failure.

I bought Behind Bars when it came out, but it would become victim to my soul-searching cleanse in the late nineties, finding its way to a landfill near you. I found and bought a used CD copy of the album a few months back to complete my Slick Rick solo collection. I wasn’t crazy about the album back in the day, but maybe time has been kind to the project.

Behind Bars – Rick kicks off the night with the title track that he uses to lightheartedly discuss his time spent in prison. The instrumental (which the liner notes credits to Prince Paul but also reads, “Remixed by Epitome Of Scratch”) matches Rick’s antics, and I might have enjoyed it more had my ears not already been exposed to Warren G’s amazing work on the remix. More on that later.

All Alone (No One To Be With) – The album’s energy takes a drastic shift with this track. Vance Wright serves up a smoothly somber instrumental that our host uses to share a story about a lonely single mother named Dawn and her troubled son. This might be the most depressing story rap in the history of hip-hop. They could have at least tucked it later in the track sequencing so not to sadden the listening audience so early into the experience. I still enjoyed the calming melody in the music.

Sittin’ In My Car – Rick reunites with his Get Fresh Crew partner, Doug E. Fresh, who’s responsible for the beatbox laced throughout the song. Vance Wright loops up Billy Stewart’s “Sitting In The Park” to create a delectable soulful sonic for Rick to break down the love triangle he’s involved in with his girl and her best friend. How in the hell do you cheat on your girl with her best friend and then have the audacity to paint yourself as the victim? Fuck outta here! The single/video version used a cheesy manufactured R&B heavy instrumental (courtesy of Jermaine Dupri) that I always despised. Plus, the singers on the hook sound horrid compared to the sixties soul sound Rick also borrowed from Mr. Stewart’s record for the original mix. If Rick were a free man when Behind Bars was released, I’m sure he wouldn’t have approved the remix.

A Love That’s True (Part I) – Rick makes the listener feel like his best friend or counselor as he gives three examples of his lousy choice in women: the coke head, the Herptress, and the young groupie, and according to Rick, they all struggle with monogamy. Rick’s dancehall-tinged backdrop sounds like the identical twin to he and V. Wright’s work on “Runaway” from The Ruler’s Back album. I still enjoyed the music, and Ricky’s tales on this record are probably the most engaging (and easy to follow) on the entire album.

Cuz It’s Wrong – One thing that consistently plagued The Ruler’s Back was the mixing. Far too many times, Rick’s soft high-pitch vocal tone got buried in the music, making it nearly impossible to follow his storylines. The saga continues on this track. Rick uses each of his three verses to outline a sexcapades with three different cheating women. I gave up trying to decipher Rick’s rhymes after the ninth or tenth time listening to the song (although I clearly understood the line when one of the ladies requests that Rick stick it “more deeper in my asshole”), but Easy Mo Bee’s jazzy instrumental is so fire, I keep coming back for more.

Let’s All Get Down – Rick links up with Nice & Smooth for this cipher session. The Greg Nice produced track was first released on Nice & Smooth’s Jewel Of The Nile album five months before Behind Bars. It sounds equally unimpressive on both albums.

I’m Captive – This might be the most bizarre narrative in Rick’s extensive story rap career. Rick comes from the perspective of a slave whose enslaved wife is repeatedly getting raped by their master, which somehow leads to Rick bangin’ out his master’s wife. Things get even wilder when the master starts making sexual advances towards Rick before Rick’s son shoots their oppressor in the dick and then tells his father that he’s also killed his own mother, so Rick can now live happily ever after with the master’s newly widowed wife. On paper, it sounds dark, twisted, and depressing, but Rick turns the subject into a zany audio cartoon that only with the help of Genius.com was I able to follow the details. The legendary Pete Rock gets his first of two production credits on the evening. Per usual, he builds the instrumental around his signature pounding drums and jazzy horns, and of course, he has to talk over the track in true PR fashion. Unfortunately, the instrumental falls flat, giving me zero interest in listening to Rick’s weird and hard-to-follow storyline.

Get A Job – Rick uses this one to not so nicely encourage begging broads (or, as he affectionately calls them, “half-cent hookers”) with their hands out to get a job. Pete Rock’s credited with the backdrop that sounds nothing like his usual M.O., but it’s still passable.

A Love That’s True (Part II) – Rick brings back the instrumental from Part I and continues on his disgust for women tirade. Instead of rapping, this time Rick reggae chants his rant before closing things out by encouraging his son to “Don’t trust no bitch” and hi-lariously singing/whistling a lullaby about how much he loves his little whippersnapper. A reggae chant done with a British accent sounds pretty interesting, and his words are even harder to decode.

It’s A Boy (Remix) – The original mix of this song, which finds Rick celebrating becoming a father, was on The Ruler’s Back album. I like Extra P’s jazzy interpretation on this remix, but unlike the original mix, Rick’s vocals get drowned out by the music. And wouldn’t it have made more sense to put this song before the “A Love That’s True” suite? Have the baby, then rant about how trash the baby mama and all other women are.

Behind Bars (Dum Ditty Dum Mix) – This is the remix I mentioned earlier in this write-up. It will forever be sketched in my memory as the time Warren G did his best Premo impersonation. The mysterious chimes and warm vibrations in the music sound incredible. Warren’s instrumental has gone criminally underrated through the years.

I’ve mentioned a time or two on this blog how much I dislike posthumously released albums. The whole idea of taking a deceased rapper’s old verses, which are often still rough drafts and incomplete ideas, and forcing them to fit within the construct of an instrumental the rapper probably never heard or intended the rhyme to be paired with feels inauthentic and usually equates to very low-quality music. There are two exceptions to my posthumous album rule, and that’s Pac’s The 7 Day Theory and Biggie’s Life After Death, both of which were already complete or pretty close to completion when the rappers passed, so they actually deserve a posthumous asterisk. After listening to The Ruler’s Back, Snoop’s Tha DoggFather, and now, Behind Bars, I might have to put albums recorded when the rapper is facing murder charges under the same umbrella as posthumous releases.

As I mentioned at the beginning of this post, I enjoyed the production on The Ruler’s Back, but Rick’s rhymes felt rushed, and his stories were hard to follow due to the horrible mixing of the tracks. That problem persists on Behind Bars. The A-list producers do a pretty good job on the production end, but Rick’s hurried rhymes and mostly uninteresting storylines, along with the copy-and-paste recording approach and odd track sequencing, end up hindering the final product.

Ultimately, Behind Bars is a failed cash grab that hasn’t aged well, and a great example to all incarcerated rappers to not release bars while still serving time behind them.

-Deedub

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